


Moon Over You

by Beastrage



Series: Moon Out Of Phase verse [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Minor Demyx/Xigbar (Kingdom Hearts), POV Outsider on Time Traveler, Secret Crush, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 04:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30049836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastrage/pseuds/Beastrage
Summary: While Isa handled the plotting and drama...Demyx studied the gay.(Moon Out Of Phase from the POV of one very gay Nobody.)
Relationships: Demyx/Saïx (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Moon Out Of Phase verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210610
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	Moon Over You

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for everything up to Chapter 22 of MOOP. Actually serves as a bridge between 22 and 23, except for the ending scene. Which occurs further in the future of MOOP. Enjoy!  
> Edit: The ending scene happens in Chapter 24: Gravity.

“Why do I  _ always  _ do this to myself?” Demyx bemoans to the hopefully not listening starry heavens far above. Though sometimes it  _ seems  _ like that pig-shaped constellation could be laughing at him...

It’s like the universe has a grudge against him or something. 

Maybe it’s the price of being a Nobody. 

More likely, it’s the price of being a dumb gay. 

Geeze, Demyx will admit it: he has a  _ type.  _ A preference. And that type is always certain to not give him the time of day. 

Pretty guys with attitudes of  _ ice.  _ Like Zexion, or Saïx. 

Look, Demyx’s not set on that. He’s no virgin, he’s wandered around the block a few times, has slept around on that same block here and there. But his preferred type...well, he’s fine with just mooning over them at a distance. 

It’s easier to safely admire Saïx than Zexion, Demyx notes. Because Zexion is always in his lab and Saïx is always in the Grey Room. 

One of those areas is far easier to access than the other, far easier to just...linger in than the other. Whenever Demyx isn’t chilling out in his territory, at least. 

Even if it means getting yelled at more. That’s okay, because everyone is always yelling at him, for something. 

Saïx is  _ seriously  _ an asshole about it, though. Entirely predictable. 

Until one day, he isn’t. 

A serious asshole or entirely predictable, that is. 

It’s...Demyx isn’t sure what to think about it. Serious enough of a transformation that he even dispatches a few Dancers with specific orders to keep an eye out on Saïx. 

What he gets out of it...oh boy. 

_ Saïx  _ of all people, wandering outside the Organization’s rules? Talking to Somebodies like it’s nothing, not against every rule he’s toted around for who knows how long? Going to a  _ cafe  _ for  _ food,  _ instead of relying on the Castle’s more than iffy refrigerator? 

Like an entirely new person, crazy!

His scales just itch at every new fact, digging in his flesh and growing and growing. 

Enough stuff coming in that he decides to go take a time to think through everything. 

The World he’s picked for  _ his  _ is on the edges of explored territory. The very very edges of everywhere the Organization normally roams. 

Demyx’s never reported its existence, though he’s sure the place would be decent enough for Heartless hunting should they ever introduce some. 

No, the World is  _ his.  _ Not for any other Nobody but himself. And his Dancers, of course. 

They like dancing at the edges of the waters he sits himself near, eating the fish and algae and whatever draws close enough to become prey. 

Sometimes Demyx even plays his sitar for them to dance along to. 

Place is as pretty as a painting, at least where he lingers the most. 

What’s the locals call this place anyway? Lake Harami? Yeah, that’s it. 

There’s some big Dark monster locked up in the cave across the lake, hidden by some kind of protective...something, but Demyx’s no moron. He won’t let it out, not in a million years. 

He’s got enough shadowy monsters to worry about in the form of Heartless without adding another to the mix.

Nah, he’ll just chill at the shoreline and avoid the priest-sword guy. 

Chill and think, something any of his coworkers would be sure to be shocked at if they ever knew he did such a thing. Safe enough to question his Dancers here, about everything they observe. Because no one else knows he’s here, see? 

(Demyx’s not  _ stupid.  _ He  _ knows  _ that people are watching him, in the Organization. Since he’s watching them too. Fair’s fair.)

“What should I do now?” He scratches at his scales, looking up at the stars. Awfully bright tonight. 

The Dancer quivers in place. Makes a suggestion, interestingly enough. 

_ Maybe talk to him.  _

Hm, where did that come from?

“Huh, well, maybe.” Demyx tunes his sitar. “I mean, what harm could it do?”

The situation changes. Instead of watching from afar, he’s suddenly in the thick of it. 

His own fault, for once, instead of being dragged into it. 

Just wanted answers, that’s all. And food. If the owner of that cafe doesn’t mind a huge,  _ fanged  _ Nobody around, then a smaller one with gills should be no problem. 

Demyx can get some decent grub to linger over, for once. Instead of cutting and running. How weird!

Saïx’s still mean (wouldn’t be Saïx if he wasn’t), but in a...softer way. Yeah,  _ softer,  _ that’s it. That kind of zing Demyx  _ really  _ likes, every once in a while. As spicy as the curry he enjoys, getting his gills  _ really  _ flapping around. 

Only a physical response, that’s it. Because Demyx doesn’t have a Heart and Saïx doesn’t either so when Saïx is being nice, he doesn’t really mean it. Not like being mean.

Just body stuff. Can’t be anything more, because he wouldn’t be a Nobody if it was. 

Just going out with Saïx, eating food with him...well, probably not dates. Saïx doesn’t think anything of the situation, Demyx is absolutely positive, if the interactions he’s seen between him and Axel are any indication. 

(All that drama and they’re  _ still not sleeping together?  _ Sheesh.)

But Demyx can’t help thinking about it. One day, he thinks, he’d like this to be  _ real.  _

Because Nobodies don’t have Hearts, right? This can’t be real, can’t be anything else than a result of his own blackmail. 

But if once Saïx gets his Heart and goes off onto his sure to be fairytale ending with Axel...that’s fine too! Demyx never knew Saïx  _ before,  _ after all. 

There’s no way he can compete with “childhood friends become lovers.”

Besides, why would he want to?! Saïx’s just pretty, nothing special. 

He sighs and dips a finger into Harami Lake’s water. Lets it wet through the leather of his glove. Watches it drip back into the lake as his hand hovers over the body of water. Carefully not touching, this time. 

Water flows where it will. Stays without anything making it move, goes into motion at the slightest touch of gravity. 

Demyx’s the same, keen on staying still unless forced into motion. 

So if that’s what happens in the end with Saïx...well, that’s what will happen. That’s all. 

(His chest doesn’t hurt at the thought. Not a bit.)

His gills do more than enough hurting for him, always burning and gasping for useless air on his neck. Scales itching in and out of his flesh every second, also a pain. 

Existing, as a Nobody, can be pretty irritating sometimes. 

(Until they stop. One day, one mission, half of the Organization...gone. Just like that. Poof. Dead. Gone. 

Doesn’t really matter, less people to poke at him and yell at him. 

But more workload. Ugh.  _ Uuugggghhh. _

The worst.

Saïx... _ stinks  _ of Nobody blood. Even without having ever been to Castle Oblivion, to where everyone died. One of the Dancers tells him so. 

But Demyx...he says nothing. 

Does it matter at this point? They’re already dead.)

“You know it doesn’t mean anything, right?”

Demyx jerks in his chair, nearly dropping his sitar onto his lap. “What?”

Xigbar flaps a too wobbly hand at the door. The door that Saïx just left through. “That. Whatever you think you’ve got going there.”

“There’s nothing going on!” Demyx flicks his eyes around the room, carefully checking that there is absolutely  _ no  _ Axel around here. Or little Keyblade kids, for that matter. 

“But not for the lack of trying, huh?” Xigbar props his chin on his hand, watching him shrewdly. 

“Erm...” Demyx fiddles with his sitar’s strings. “It’s that obvious?”

“To anyone not a kid and outside that little drama, pretty much, yeah.” Xigbar leans back, stretching his arms out behind his head. The joints pop and Demyx very carefully does not flinch at the sudden sound. “Those two are  _ way  _ too tied up in each other for Moonbunny to ever notice you.”

Just what Demyx’s been thinking, really. Nothing different from the many lanes of thought he’s wandered down. It hurts more to hear Xigbar say it out loud. 

“Maybe I don’t  _ want  _ him to notice me,” he mutters sulkily. “Don’t want Axel getting pissed at me.”

A bark of a laugh. A very fake one, with no real emotions around here. “Only an admirer, huh? That works.”

Demyx taps the edge of his sitar. Lets it vanish with one last lingering note in the air. 

“Sooo...wanna do it with me?” Maybe one solid fuck will get Saïx off his mind...been awhile since Demyx’s last. 

Xigbar’s single eye looks him over. The Nobody raises an eyebrow. Shrugs. 

“Sure, why not?”

(Demyx leaves scales all over the bed. Xigbar doesn’t stay the night. But that’s okay, Demyx didn’t really want to wake up next to him anyway.

“Wait...oh man, I don’t remember what his legs looked like!”

There goes his chance to add to the betting pool of ‘what the fuck is Xigbar hiding.’)

His fingers itch, as he rubs them together. Wanting to tear at something,  _ anything.  _

In this state of mind...no sitar. Don’t want to break it, even if it does manage to repair itself by the next summoning. 

Those cuts, those wounds...Demyx  _ knows  _ he shouldn’t have seen them.

Saïx would probably  _ gut  _ him for seeing him in his moment of weakness. He should have already. But he didn’t. 

Even when Demyx went up to him, outright admitted that he knew what happened to Saïx. 

Saïx still hadn’t. Was.... _ grateful,  _ when Demyx told him that no one would hear their conversation. (Not a lie, something definitely within Demyx’s capabilities...and within the surrounding pipes.) But...he also  _ believed  _ Demyx about it. 

Instead of accusing him of lying. It’s...something in Demyx’s chest twists painfully. When was the last time that happened?

_ Doesn’t know everything.  _

What doesn’t the Superior know, then? What is Saïx hiding, enough to be almost  _ gleeful  _ at his victory?

Demyx bets he could probably, maybe, get something nice for selling that secret. Certainly a secret Saïx would have never spoken out loud, in his right mind. 

His fingers reach up to rub at his hair, his neck. Tracing along where scales and gill slits meet. Wet with the sea water that replaces his sweat. 

Xemnas would  _ kill  _ him for not telling him this secret. 

Nobodies don’t care about anyone else but themselves. The side effect of having no Heart, of valuing nothing but survival and tending to the ‘wants of the flesh.’

But.

He won’t tell. Why does he care?

(Blood dripping, realization,  _ that scar... _ )

(He trusts you.)

That funny feeling in his chest again...

Oh. That’s why. Crazy. 

Harder to meet with Saïx, after that. 

Pretty sure that’s the Superior’s aim, actually. Considering what he’s probably accusing Saïx of, and how Marluxia and Larxene got killed for...rebellion. 

Saïx should be considered lucky, since he’s still alive. 

Demyx thinks back to open, angry wounds, and the Nobody slowly withdrawing into himself, and can’t bring himself to think so. 

Weakness...that’s what one takes advantage of, in the Organization. That’s why no one knows Demyx’s favorite foods or anything!

(Except Saïx. Saïx knows his favorite foods.)

Demyx thumps his head against the wall. “Fuck!” 

“Whoa, the Melodious Nocturne swearing? Who would have guessed?” Axel’s amused voice speaks up from across the room. 

Demyx blinks blearily at him. “Oh, it’s you.”

Possibly not the smartest thing to say to an assassin who’s obsessed with being remembered. But then, no one ever accused Demyx of being smart. 

Luckily, Axel doesn’t take offense. He even laughs, in the fake fashion all Nobodies share. 

“What’s up?”

Erm. “Nothing much. What do  _ you _ want?”

Axel tilts his head. “...you’re being oddly aggressive today.”

To his horror, Demyx realizes the assassin’s right. Uh oh. He rubs a hand against his forehead, faking a headache. “Yeah, ugh...last night, that was...something.”

Really something, with Saïx bleeding all over the floor. 

“That good.” Axel folds his arms over his chest, cat-eyes gleaming with false amusement. “I see.”

“Sooo.” Demyx taps his fingers nervously on his neck. “Um, I totally did my work and everything! You can tell Saïx that!”

Just like that, Axel’s smile falls. A scowl takes his place. 

Demyx panics, salt water trickling from his gills. Oh man, what did he- oh. Mentioned Saïx. Right. Yeah, bad move,  _ really  _ bad move. 

Quick, change the subject! “How’s...Roxas?”

Axel’s scowl moves more towards confusion. “...why do you care?”

He doesn’t, he just wants to not die by annoyed Axel! “Um, er, he seemed...I dunno, something about his mission?”

The mission that Demyx left him to do. Yeah, that’s fine. Totally fine. 

The angriness returns. Axel turns on his heel, muttering, “...have to talk to  _ Saïx  _ about that...”

Demyx stares after his retreating back. 

“Uh, good luck?”

Yay, he’s not dead?

“How’s it hanging, Demyx?” Rinoa settles down in the chair across from him, smiling at him. 

Uh oh. That’s never a good sign. 

Demyx looks down at his bowl. Still halfway full, don’t want to run out on that.

“Um, what is it?”

Rinoa threads her fingers together. “So. You and Saïx. Thoughts?” Her smile is  _ knowing.  _

Shit, not someone else catching onto his crush! Especially a Somebody of all people!

“I shouldn’t, he’s already got someone, or somebody that could be someone-!” Demyx babbles, waving a hand. His gills rasp open and close. 

“Demyx.” Rinoa’s dark brown eyes are serious. Very serious. Her palm is flat against the table. “Believe me when I say I would rather Saïx be with your lazy ass than a crazy stalker ex.” 

Crazy stalker ex? Huh? Has Saïx been dating? 

Demyx puts his head on the table, arms spreading out dramatically on that same surface. “That’s not really the best recommendation...” his words come out muffled. 

His ears catch a sigh. “Yeah. You’re right. That was kinda mean, actually. Sorry.”

Demyx blinks, face still hidden. Whoa, that’s new. Who apologizes to  _ him?  _ He’s done things that people might expect apologies for, but one for him personally? Weird. Unnatural. 

“I’m not going to ask about your coats. Or your other weirdness. Partly because I don’t think you’ll tell me if I ask, for probably solid reasons,” Rinoa admits. 

Demyx feels her feet kicking against his chair. Click. Click. 

“But...if you asked. I think you have a chance.”

Wait, what? “Really?” He lifts his head to look up at her, eyes wide in disbelief.

Another smile. “Might have to wait a bit, but yeah. I think so. And...” Rinoa sighs. “He does have quite the chest, doesn’t he?”

Demyx feels heat in his throat and it’s not from the curry. Thinking back to that day he walked into Balamb to Rinoa patting at Saïx’s bare chest...

“Yeah,” his voice is hoarse as he agrees. “It’s not half bad.”

Getting a day off...whoa. Demyx never saw that coming, not in a million years. 

Even more surprising is that Saïx is  _ actually  _ going to pay up. Might’ve teased about not, but he’s  _ doing it.  _

Crazy. Really crazy. 

...What should he do? Sleeping’s the obvious answer, as is wandering off to his territory, or simply playing his sitar as long as he wants. 

His fingers itch. As do his gills. Reach up, to scratch. To burn, breathing on air. 

Felt like nothing, covering for Saïx. Even  _ Saïx  _ didn’t expect that, so no one else will catch on. The day-off almost feels like a...thank you, in the light of the consideration in those yellow eyes. 

Saïx hasn’t really been pushing Demyx to do more work either. Even as he does less and less, Saïx hasn’t said a word. 

There’s a swirling in his gut, at the realization. 

(If Nobodies could feel...Demyx might even call it  _ guilt. _ )

Whatever, he has his day off. Nothing else matters! Demyx shakes the swirling off like he does everything else, just water running off his back.

Lake Harami is just as calm and welcoming as always. Perfect for a vacation. 

Summon a few Dancers to keep watch, and it’s perfect.

But. Should he...do something with them? Other than just keep watch?

Demyx’s not even sure why he asks. But the question’s already out, before he can think more about it. “Hey, you guys have any preferences on what to play?”

Like Lessers have any preferences...but he doesn’t take it back. He can’t, for some reason. 

The flock of Dancers linger. Considering. Finally, one suggests,  _ Play usual? Make water move, in lake, for Dancers to go around?  _

Demyx pats his sitar. “Sure, I can do that! No problem.”

Run his fingers across the strings and sing out, “Dance, water, dance~!”

(Just a little more time, just a few more breaths to take.)

(He can do this.)

Rinoa and Xion...

They’re so  _ stupid.  _ They’re going to get themselves  _ killed.  _

Demyx can’t let that happen, no matter how ridiculous it is that he, a  _ Nobody  _ and the laziest one in the Organization, is the one with the brains here.

Shiver. He’ll need to go take a nap after this to recover...

Demyx kinda already knew Xion had been involved with Saïx already. Not hard to guess, especially the fog finally went away and he could see that familiar shade of blue streaked through her hair. 

Not to this extent, though, huh? Telling her about Balamb...but the hair streaks! And the way her Keyblade looks now, kinda like a certain claymore.

Yeah, Demyx should’ve guessed. Maybe he really wasn’t looking, that’s all. 

(Easier not to look.)

He puts his hands on his hips, looking Rinoa up and down. Rinoa in one of his spare coats. Frankly, she doesn’t look half bad. Maybe her boobs are  _ slightly  _ tight against the leather, and she’s a inch or so shorter but...mostly works!

“Try the hood up,” Xion suggests, watching from the side.

“Go ahead.” Demyx nods. 

“All right.” Rinoa obeys and...huh. Just another Organization member, just... _ him,  _ since the coat she’s wearing is his. 

“Yeah, this might actually work. I can’t believe it.” Demyx shakes his head, gills flapping noisily. “Crazy.”

Just a little extra, to make it work, since she’s still smelling kind of human...

He flicks out a hand and sprays her with water. 

“Hey, what was that!?”

“Hiding your scent,” Xion explains, catching on nearly instantly. 

He takes another sniff. Salt water. The same kind of stink that follows him around all the time. Perfect. Perfect disguise. As long as she doesn’t talk to anyone, or lower the hood. 

“Okay, just don’t...talk to anyone. Keep the hood up. And it should be okay,” Demyx settles on, reaching up to rub a finger along his gill slits. 

“But how is she going to find Saïx?” Xion asks, her eyes bright. 

Hm. Good point. 

“Uh. I guess a Dancer might work?” Might even add to the disguise actually. 

Demyx calls and a Dancer answers, popping into existence. 

Rinoa jerks, lowering her hood for a better look. “Whoa! You have grey things too?”

The Dancer wiggles towards Rinoa, sniffing at her, head ribbon moving about wildly in the process.  _ Interesting. What doing? _

“You’ll lead her to Saïx. The Lead Berserker,” Demyx explains, gesturing. “Can you do that?”

“What’s your name?” Xion cuts in.

Demyx blinks. A name? Lesser Nobodies don’t have nam-

_ Ranaa.  _

Wait. They do? Xion’s nodding, while Demyx’s still reeling inwardly. “She or he?”

_ She.  _ The Dancer lifts its,  _ her,  _ faceless head. Gaining more confidence. 

“Can you help us? Lead Rinoa to Saïx?”

_ Yes. This Ranaa, she will lead the Somebody to the Berserkers. _

Demyx lets out an explosive breath of relief. “Great! No one’s getting eaten today?”

Brown eyes go all narrow-eyed squinty at him. “That was a risk?”

“Probably not!” Demyx’s totally telling the complete truth here, he’s pretty sure his Dancers wouldn’t eat a Somebody he’s spent so much time around. Pretty sure. 

But names, huh...his gills burn. If his Dancers have names...maybe he should do something about it. 

(Ask about it.)

He shakes the thoughts away, for now. “Ready to go, Rinoa? Ranaa?”

Rinoa nods, face hidden once more under the black leather’s shade. The Dancer makes a similar gesture. 

“Yes.”

_ Yes.  _

“Okay, let’s do this then!” He grins, too wide, too fake. (Too Nobody.) “It’s Demyx Time!”

* * *

Huffing. Panting. The rasp of leather dragging on the ground, as one individual attempts to carry another much larger than him. Attempts being the key word here. 

“Man, you’re a real moron, aren’t you?”

Dripping. Dark blood oozing, onto pale floors. Under an uncaring moon. 

“Challenging the Superior like that...who would have guessed? You, of all people!” A headshake. “Completely nuts.”

The body, of course, does not answer. The blood drips faster. 

“Oh, you should probably stop doing that. I hear you need that stuff, for living.” The twang of a string. The slurp of a liquid going back into a hole of some kind. 

The dragging sounds stop, as the speaker chooses to rest on the floor next to the body. 

“You better not die. The Superior will totally kill me if you do!” 

A blond head, tilting up towards the moonlight. Not looking down at the paleness of the body’s scarred face. 

Quiet words, below the range of what any ordinary human could ever hope to hear. 

“And...I think I would miss you.”

(So.)

(Please don’t die.)

**Author's Note:**

> Where Demyx hangs out...a Okami reference. And the Dancer's name? FFXIV. :)


End file.
